


Aftershave and Lace

by MorningRunner



Series: Zukka Week 2020 [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, Drunk Zuko (Avatar), Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22348447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorningRunner/pseuds/MorningRunner
Summary: Zuko's family are holding a masquerade ball. Sokka's there for the moral support and to stop Zuko drinking the whole bar.Zukka Week 2020Day 2: Masquerade
Relationships: Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Zukka Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607161
Comments: 12
Kudos: 355





	Aftershave and Lace

**Author's Note:**

> Yay, Day 2!  
> I loved writing this one. Sorry for any typos or mess ups, I've tried to edit it through, but my brain stops working when I read my work too many times. 
> 
> (also reminder that I'm British so there's probably some funky/alternate spellings in there, sorry!)

Sokka skidded his bike to a halt outside the gates of Zuko’s house. He let himself catch his breath for a moment before he rang the bell to be let in. He’d been friends with Zuko for almost ten years and Sokka still felt ridiculously out of place at the oversized mansion. He propped the rusty bike against the wall and gave it a fond pat on the handlebars. He was surprised it had survived the journey; the back wheel had been threatening to fall off for the last few weeks. Sokka left the bike where it was and made his way back over to the gate. He checked both of his armpits for sweat, he didn't want Zuko's stuck up family to disapprove of him any more than they already did. His stupid suit wasn’t exactly breathable, but he'd had no choice but to cycle over in it. He concluded he passed the sniff test and checked his reflection in his phone's front camera. A couple of strands of hair were falling out of his hair tie, but other than that he deemed himself acceptable. He was always going to look a mess compared to everyone else at the masquerade ball that night. He took one more moment to mentally prepare himself for the absolute delights that were Zuko’s family and pressed the buzzer on the gate.

“Well, well,” a familiar drawl sounded through the intercom. Sokka swore under his breath, of course it’d be Azula to answer.

“Hi, she-devil,” Sokka replied, “please let me enter through the fiery gates.”

“Why should I?”

“Because otherwise you’ll have to deal with Zuko getting ready for this party instead of me,” Sokka grinned, he knew he’d have her there. Sure enough, the familiar click sounded, and the big metal gates began to slide open. He slipped through the gap and strutted towards the front doors. Azula was waiting for him, leaning against the door frame; her ever-present smirk plastered on her face.

“Hello, Sokka. Come to pamper Princess Zuzu, have we?” She grinned at him, flashing perfect, straight teeth. She was clearly halfway through getting ready herself, but somehow she pulled it off.

“Something like that,” Sokka rolled his eyes and pushed past her.

“He’s probably crying in his room,” Azula said and disappeared off to wherever her evil lair was. He’d never understand that girl. 

Sokka made his way up the huge staircase towards Zuko’s bedroom. He always felt like he'd walked a marathon trying to get anywhere in Zuko's house. He stopped at Zuko's door and knocked; twice quick, twice slow, twice quick. Their secret code. Almost immediately, Zuko’s head popped round the door. He grabbed Sokka by the blazer collar, pulled him in and shut the door behind them. 

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Zuko said as he pushed Sokka onto the bed.

“Wow, Zuko, if you wanted me like that you should have just said,” Sokka raised an eyebrow. Instead of an answer he was met with a face full of various fabrics. Sokka flinched back before he realised that it was just Zuko's extensive collection of neckties. “What one?” Zuko stood at the end of the bed; an expectant look on his face.

“Your dad will want red,” Sokka said.

“Then I’ll go with blue. Bowtie?”

“No,” Sokka shook his head and grabbed a navy, silk necktie from the pile on his chest. He pushed himself up off the bed and looped the tie round Zuko’s neck. The smell of whatever Zuko had clearly doused himself in crowded his senses and he choked a little. “Wow, maybe next time go easy on the aftershave, Z.”

“Sorry, thought more would be better than less,” Zuko said. Colour spread across his cheeks. Sokka loved it when Zuko blushed. If he got embarrassed enough, even the tip of his nose would turn red.

“Guess that's fair enough,” Sokka agreed. He began to sort Zuko’s tie, pulling it tighter around his neck. “Bit weird this tie probably costs more than my whole outfit put together.”

“You can borrow one if you want?” Zuko gestured to the pile Sokka had half knocked on the floor when he'd got up.

“Yeah, actually. Don’t want to be the only one without a tie." He finished with Zuko’s knot and plopped himself back down on the bed. He picked up a bright red bowtie and winked before fastening it round his own neck.

“Suits you,” Zuko said while removing an expensive suit jacket from the back of his desk chair. He pulled the dark grey material on over his shirt. Sokka wondered for a moment if the world truly hated him. How was it fair that his best friend was the literal definition of beauty?

“Fuck, Zuko,” Sokka whistled, “way to show me up.” 

Zuko rolled his gold-tinted eyes and looked at himself in the huge mirror that covered most of the wall behind his desk. “Really think I look okay?”

“ _Really_ , really,” Sokka said, “how long do we have until guests arrive?”

“About an hour,” Zuko checked his watch. “That reminds me, I stole some vodka from the kitchens earlier.” Zuko rolled open the top drawer of the desk and produce a huge bottle of some sort of overpriced vodka.

“Z! Such a bad boy,” Sokka teased. Sokka loved it when Zuko was like this. It was rare, but when that boy let loose, he did it spectacularly. He knew he should probably stop the older boy from drinking before a big event, especially as Zuko was meant to make a speech later, but where was the fun in that?

Three shots later, both boys were feeling far more prepared for the whole event. Zuko was ranting on about how his father only did these things to seem like he was a good person and Sokka was fumbling with Zuko’s intricate masquerade mask.

“Stop moving,” Sokka slapped Zuko’s shoulder.

“I’m not even moving. I still have to breathe.”

“Breathe less dramatically then,” Sokka tried again to tie a neat bow at the back of Zuko’s head. It didn’t help Zuko’s soft hair kept getting caught in the satin ribbon. It made the whole process a lot harder. Especially when Sokka was three drinks down and all he wanted to do was run his hands through it. Finally, Sokka was happy with his work and he stepped back.

“Your turn,” Zuko turned around and held out his hand.

“Nah, mine’s not all fancy like yours,” Sokka pulled a slightly crumpled mask from his trouser pocket. “Elastic.” He pulled it over his head and smoothed out some of the creases.

“Your mask matches the bowtie,” Zuko said.

“Yours is lace. It doesn’t match your tie, so can I assume it matches your…”

“Shut up!” Zuko said. His alcohol-reddened cheeks darkened a little more and he pushed Sokka away from him. "Come on, we better show our faces or Dad's gonna flip," Zuko opened his bedroom door. Sokka reached out to straighten up Zuko's jacket at the back, before the pair of them left the safety of Zuko’s room; ready to face the horrors of the charity ball.

It was two hours in and Sokka hadn't seen Zuko for the last half an hour. One minute they’d been hiding out near one of the buffet tables, and the next Zuko had been whisked away by some stinking rich woman and her horse-faced daughter. Sokka had known it would be like this, but it didn’t make it any less awkward. He pushed past another three women wearing near enough identical gowns and was almost relieved to see Azula stood by one of the bars.

“Azula!” He crashed himself down on the bar stool beside her.

“Oh, goodie, you’re still here.”

“Have you seen Zuko? His speech is in half an hour and I can’t find him.”

“I might be able to help. Depends what's in it for me," Azula’s eyes flashed with sudden interest. Sokka groaned and ran a hand through his hair, pulling some of it out of place. 

“I don’t know, Azula, I’ll owe you one,” Sokka said. He knew he’d regret it tomorrow, but right now he had more important things to deal with.

“Very well. He's been at the other bar for the last twenty minutes. I tipped the bartender earlier to serve him throughout the night.”

“Why would you do that?” Sokka hissed. The temptation to grab her stupid mask and snap it back onto her face was overwhelming and he had to rip himself away before he did. Instead, he scanned the crowds before making a beeline across the building to the other bar. 

Zuko was well and truly drunk. His dark hair was curling up at the base of his neck from sweat and Sokka was glad the older boy had decided to practically bathe in cologne after all.

“Sokka!” Zuko’s eyes zoned in on him and a strange grin spread across his face. Sokka had never seen him so gone before in his life.

“Why me?” Sokka muttered as he steadied his inebriated friend. Clearly the world just wanted Sokka to suffer for something he’d done in a past life. “How much have you had to drink, Z?”

“A many,” Zuko grinned.

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“You know what doesn’t make sense?” Zuko blinked. His mask was crooked across his face; half-covering Zuko’s good eye.

“Probably a lot considering you can barely see right now,” Sokka carefully shifted the lace mask back into place.

“No, silly,” Zuko put a finger over Sokka’s lips and let out a huge hiccup before continuing. “What doesn’t make sense is how out of all these stupid rich people and their stupid rich outfits, it’s you that looks a million dollars.”

Sokka couldn’t help but laugh, “a…a million dollars? How long did you spend rehearsing that one, buddy? You have had far too much to drink.”

“No, I mean it!” Zuko was full on pouting and Sokka wondered if Azula really had let him into the fiery pits of Hell earlier on. “Your eyes are so, so blue. That’s why I wanted to wear this tie. It matches your eyes.”

“Fucking hell,” Sokka groaned and dragged Zuko through the dancing crowd towards one of the bathrooms. He locked the door behind them and turned the tap on. He looked around the bathroom for a glass or something. Nothing. He stared at the running water, contemplating his next actions. He really hoped Zuko would be too hungover to remember this the next day. He cupped his hand and let some of the water pool in his palm. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” He held the hand out to Zuko. “Go on, drink!” Zuko didn’t even hesitate. He latched his lips onto the edge of Sokka’s hand and let the water slide down into his mouth. Some of it trickled out the edge’s of Zuko’s lips, collecting on his chin. Zuko wiped it off with the back of his hand, dissolving into giggles. Sokka felt like smashing his own head against the sink might be the only way to survive the ordeal.

After a while of Sokka sobering him up, Zuko was slightly more coherent. He was sat on the closed toilet seat, looking up at Sokka.

“Do you have your speech?” Sokka asked. Zuko made a noise that Sokka could only presume meant yet, and began frantically rummaging through his pockets. Sokka swatted at Zuko's hands and pulled a neatly folded piece of paper out of the older boy's front trouser pocket. Sokka unfolded it and let out a relieved sigh when it was indeed the intact speech. He placed the sheet into Zuko's hands. 

“I can’t do it," Zuko said after taking one look at it. 

“Yes, you can.”

“I can’t,” Zuko rubbed at his eyes through his mask and Sokka threw his head back in exasperation. Now was not the time for Zuko to start having a drink induced breakdown.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were so nervous? Is that why you drank half the bar?” 

“No. I mean… yes. The shots before were to help with the speech. I drank the rest because you are so gorgeous in that suit, that doesn’t even fit you properly by the way, and I couldn’t handle it for another moment.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t fit me?” Sokka glanced at himself in the mirror. It looked fine to him.

“That’s what you take from what I just said?”

“Well, sorry not all of us have personal tailors,” Sokka smirked, “although the bit about me being hot I don’t mind so much.”

“I said gorgeous, but you are… hot I mean,” Zuko finished the sentence with a huge hiccup and Sokka cursed the fact the other boy was still far too drunk to be making these kinds of statements.

“As much as I really, really want to explore this wonderful new information I’ve received, you are due to give a speech in, like, five minutes and I’d appreciate it if you’d just behave for a bit.”

“Fine,” Zuko stumbled to his feet, hurtling forward into Sokka. Sokka managed to grab at the sink counter to steady them. He pulled Zuko upright and sorted the stupid mask for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Zuko flashed him a sheepish smile and tried to return the favour.

"Thanks, but I'd like to keep both my eyes," Sokka mumbled. He removed Zuko's hands from his face and shoved Zuko out of the bathroom, ignoring the looks they received from the group of guests lingering outside.

Zuko tripped onto the stage in the main ballroom with seconds to spare. Sokka had spent the last few minutes snaking through the dance floor and swatting glasses of champagne from Zuko's hands. He'd have to apologise to the workers later for the mess he'd probably made, but the last thing Zuko needed right now was more alcohol. Sokka was just grateful that Zuko seemed to sober up just as quick as he'd managed to get drunk in the first place. Now he could only hope that the speech would go without a problem. He settled to the side of the platform to watch. 

"You know, I was really hoping he wouldn’t make it,” Azula whispered in Sokka’s left ear, "that would have been far more entertaining than any speech Zuzu has thrown together." She took a sip of the alcohol in her glass that she was far too young to be drinking. Sokka ignored her, fixing his eyes on Zuko instead. He could tell, even from across the room, that Zuko’s hands were shaking as he steadied the microphone.

“Good evening,” Zuko began, his eyes darted across the room until he found Sokka and they locked on him. Sokka held his breath, giving what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He didn't envy his best friend at times like this. He listened as Zuko somehow managed to deliver his speech perfectly. He got laughs in all the right places, managed to maintain a good amount of eye contact with his audience, and even seemed to have won the approval of his father for once. Sokka felt a huge swell of pride flood through him and settle somewhere over his chest. He watched Zuko dodge multiple strangers who were trying to congratulate him, but the other boy's attention was clearly undivided. Sokka's legs kicked into gear and he closed the last couple strides between the two of them, pulling Zuko into a tight hug. 

“Please tell me I can kiss you right now,” Zuko whispered. The taller boy pulled back from the hug, his hands resting on Sokka's hips. His breath smelled like vodka and it mixed in with the lingering aftershave. It really should’ve been off-putting, but there was something so ‘Zuko’ about it.

"If you don't, then I'm going to kill you instead," Sokka grabbed a fistful of Zuko's grey suit jacket and buried his other hand in his hair. Zuko's amber eyes shot wide and he covered Sokka's lips with his own. Sokka let out a whimper and kissed Zuko back, as if his life depended on it.

"Finally," Sokka heard Azula huff, before the people surrounding them began to clap. Zuko seemed to remember where he was and stepped back, blinking a few times. Sokka didn't care even in the slightest at this point. He grabbed Zuko’s expensive tie and dragged the boy across the dance floor and out into the hall. 

Both boys seemed to be slightly unsure of what to say once they were out into the brighter hallway. 

"Well," Zuko scratched at the back of his neck, "you want to come back to my room?" 

"That was where I was meant to be sleeping, anyway," Sokka teased, "and you're still drunk."

"True," Zuko slumped against the wall, clearly thinking things through. "I would do it sober." 

"That's good to know." 

"I mean it. I've wanted to kiss you for at least five years now," Zuko said. Clearly the alcohol hadn't quite put a cap on his brain to mouth filter. He reached out for Sokka's hand and laced their fingers together.

"Five years?"

"Maybe even longer. I don't know," Zuko groaned, "please don't tell me that you've felt the same way all this time, because then I've wasted the last however long crying to Taylor Swift over you for no reason." 

"I won't tell you then," Sokka snorted, "Taylor Swift? Gosh, I just kissed the world's biggest dork." He picked up Zuko's other hand and tugged him away from the wall.

"We could just go back to my room and watch a movie?" Zuko offered. It was an obvious change of subject, but Sokka let him have it. 

"Sounds good," Sokka agreed and they made their way up to Zuko's room.

Once they were in the safety of the bedroom, Sokka ripped his mask off his face. 

"Man, that was itchy," he flung it to the floor. Zuko tried to untie his, but seemed to be struggling. 

"Could you help me?" Zuko sat down on the bed, giving up. Sokka nodded. It was funny how similar this felt to how they'd been just hours earlier, but this time if he wanted to run his hands through Zuko's hair he was allowed. He untied the ribbon at the back of Zuko's head and placed the mask on the bedside table. It was too pretty to just throw aside. Zuko turned to look at Sokka, suddenly shy. He slipped his jacket off his shoulders and dropped it to the floor. Sokka mirrored him, then paused. They'd got changed in front of each other countless times, but this time felt different. Zuko was the first to move, slipping off his tie and then slowly unbuttoning his shirt. Sokka wasn't sure where to look. He was about to remind Zuko that he didn't want to do anything when Zuko was still tipsy, but he didn't have the chance because Zuko suddenly burst into laughter. 

"What?" Sokka frowned. Zuko's shirt was currently half unbuttoned and it was entirely distracting. 

"Did I..." Zuko let out another laugh, "did I drink out of your hand earlier?" 

"Shut up!" Sokka groaned. He grabbed the nearest pillow and whacked Zuko round the head with it. He'd really hoped that might have slipped Zuko's mind. "For bringing that up, we are watching what I want now." 

"Hey, we always do anyway," Zuko was still grinning. The older boy finished unbuttoning his shirt and added it to the pile of clothes on the floor. He peeled back the duvet and clambered in, beckoning for Sokka to join him. Sokka rolled his eyes, but climbed in beside him. If he'd known the night was going to end up how it had, he might have asked Zuko to invite him to one of his family's charity balls sooner; even if he did now owe Azula a favour. 


End file.
